


lay it down slow

by milk_o_vich



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Depression, Isak Takes Care of Even, M/M, there's just a lot of love between the two of them okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milk_o_vich/pseuds/milk_o_vich
Summary: Even is curled up in bed, duvet splayed on the floor, t-shirt and hair damp with sweat. Isak swallows hard, because it just isn’t a nice sight. Even looks so small like this.a.k.a. a little snapshot of isak taking care of even during a depressive episode.





	lay it down slow

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt i got on tumblr a while ago now, but i re-read it the other day and thought i'd post it on here too :) i hope you enjoy <3  
> title of this fic is taken from lay it down slow by spiritualised, which, like, listen to that song. it's evak through and through!!!

It never feels like Isak’s looking after Even when he’s like this.

Not really, anyway. It feels more like…helping him out. 

Even can’t bring himself to make breakfast? Okay, Isak can cook some eggs for the two of them, even if he can’t make them as well as Even does. Even feels overwhelmed at the idea that it’s his turn to wash the dishes? Well, there’s probably some dishes still left over from Isak’s turn, anyway. Even can’t handle going to school? Isak can let the school know and pop over to his teachers to collect any work Even’s missed. He genuinely, really, absolutely, doesn’t mind. He knows that as soon as Even feels better, he’ll pick things back up. Until then, Isak is there to help him out. Which is okay. Things are okay. Things will be okay. 

One day, Isak finds himself walking home from school and, despite himself, he can’t help walk  _that bit quicker_ knowing Even is home, alone, feeling low and a little hopeless.

He steps inside and heat hits him like a punch to the face. Because  _Jesus,_  their flat feels like a fucking sauna. They’re entering the summer months anyway, and they have so many large windows that it kind of turns their place into a greenhouse when the sun’s out. But it’s  _more_  than that. Isak’s fingers trail over the radiator and find it almost boiling to the touch. He frowns, switches the heating off, and walks into his and Even’s bedroom.  
Even is curled up in bed, duvet splayed on the floor, t-shirt and hair damp with sweat. Isak swallows hard, because it just isn’t a nice sight. Even looks so small like this. 

At some point, Isak’s legs remember how to work. He opens their window as wide as it will go before climbing in bed, next to Even, pressing a kiss on his cheek to wake him up.

“Are you trying to cook yourself alive, or?” Isak murmurs, laughing a little nervously, trying not to make his worry abundantly clear. 

It takes Even a little while to respond, but eventually, he opens his eyes. Looks at Isak briefly before rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. 

“I tried turning it down, but…” His voice is small, raspy, and his eyes are teary and tired and  _God_ , Isak just wants to make it all go away for him. “I couldn’t figure it out, so.”

“I’ve fixed it,” Isak murmurs gently, threading a hand through Even’s hair. It’s a bit gross; greasy and sweaty, and if Isak’s honest, Even hasn’t showered in days and the whole room stinks because of it. It’s alright, though. Isak doesn’t mind that much.

“I just.” Even swallows hard, tired eyes fluttering shut, looking on the verge of tears. And Even’s cried over less when he’s been like this; out of frustration and exhaustion and, well,  _depression_. Isak learnt a long time ago that comforting words can’t always do a huge amount when Even’s like this. That the best thing he can do sometimes is simply sit there and  _be_  with him.

“Hey,” Isak murmurs, turning Even’s face to look at him, making their eyes meet. Even’s eyes are a little dulled, a little less light, a little less starry. They’re heavy, exhaustion radiating from them, but they’re still  _Even’s eyes_. Wonderful and perfect and Isak loves them just the same. “Minute by minute, yeah?”

Even swallows again. “Yeah,” he says quietly, and Isak smiles a little, brushing his thumb over Even’s cheek, then his mouth. He closes the distance between them and kisses him, soft and undemanding and reassuring. Just letting him know he’s there. Even’s mouth tastes a little bitter, teeth unbrushed and lips dry and chapped, but Isak wouldn’t want any other lips but these. Even’s. Even, who is the brightest and kindest and most beautiful person Isak knows, even when he’s low like this. 

“How about a shower?” Isak suggests tentatively. 

After half a minute of silence, Even nods, pulling himself out of bed with heavy limbs and tired eyes. It’s progress, though. Good progress. 

Isak fixes the shower so it’s the colder side of warm - they’re both boiling from the heat of the flat - and when Even gets undressed, Isak picks his clothes up. Says, “I’ll join you in a minute, I just need to put the washing on.”

Isak collects the rest of the dirty clothes from their bedroom which - okay, their bedroom is a tip, but Isak’s never been particularly tidy and maybe it does go to shit a tiny bit when Even isn’t there to remind him to pick his clothes up. But whatever.

He strips the bed linen, too, down to the pillow cases, and crams everything into the washing machine before returning to the bathroom. Even is under the shower, rubbing the shower gel over his body kind of numbly and methodically. Isak undresses himself, steps in the shower with Even, and smiles up at him. Kisses him once, softly and gently. Another day, another mood, kisses in the shower can be messy and hungry and desperate. But not in times like this. Times like this, the kiss is nothing but a reassuring hello,  _I’m here. I’m not going anywhere._  Noses brushing against one another, foreheads together, deep breaths and closed eyes. Standing under the jets of water and melting into one being. And Isak just can’t help thinking that if something as simple as love could make Even happy, then he’d be the happiest boy in the world. 

Isak squeezes some shampoo out and reaches up to wash Even’s hair. They wash each other all the time, but right now, Isak focuses  _just that bit more_  on massaging Even’s scalp. Threading his fingers deep in Even’s hair, moving in soothing circles. Even is pliant; closes his eyes and lets Isak take over, and Isak wonders, briefly, whether Even’s actually fallen asleep standing up. A content little hum that escapes Even’s lips a few moments later tells Isak that he isn’t, though, and so Isak just continues what he’s doing, careful not to get shampoo in Even’s eyes. 

“Head back, baby,” Isak says softly, and Even obliges, letting the jets of water wash the shampoo away with the dirt and grease and grime that collects after a week or whatever of no showers.

When they step out of the shower, the warmth of the flat is more than welcome to them both. Isak gives Even the fluffiest towel they own, makes them both a drink and some sandwiches, and they settle on the sofa together. Even nibbles a little disinterestedly at the sandwich, and that’s fine. Isak doesn’t expect him to eat all of it. Even does drink, though. Drinks the entire pint of water Isak poured for him. 

They end up deciding to watch a film while they wait for the laundry to finish, but within ten minutes, Even has fallen asleep, curled on the sofa with his head on the arm rest. And Isak just lets him sleep as he gets to washing the dishes.

He doesn’t have the solutions to all this. He wishes he did, sometimes.  _God_ , he wishes he did  _all_  the time, really. Wishes he could wave a magic wand and make everything better. But he can’t;  _knows_  he can’t.

What he can do, though, is make sure that when Even falls asleep tonight, it’s in freshly washed pyjamas and freshly washed bed linen. He can make sure Even falls asleep tonight wrapped in Isak’s arms, which are small and a little frail and sometimes a little unsure, but always,  _always_  open. Always loving. always there, through highs and lows and the bits in between, for as long as Even wants them to be. 

And that, Isak decides, has to be worth something.

**Author's Note:**

> would you guys like me to post more of the prompts i get to ao3?? if so just let me know:')  
> as usual, you can find me at tumblr here: isakdandelions.tumblr.com


End file.
